Waiting
by Little Obsessions
Summary: C&J ok, so we have a new chap. story. i dont want to give too much away, but lets just say it's heavy so if you like drama........... this is defianetly for you. FINISHED !
1. Chapter 1

_Non of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. This is a "how they got together one- shot." this is set when the princes are young, presumably at boarding school._

As the royal carriage trotted along the cobbled streets, Clarisse dutifully waved at the adoring public. It was blisteringly hot, the sun beating against her bare neck and shoulders, shining on the perfect world that had surrounded her. She smiled again, beaming almost angelically. The people threw flowers at their king and queen, showering them - reminding Clarisse ruefully of her almost god like reputation.

As martin and Joseph hung off the back of the carriage, he felt uneasy in the glaring sun and scorching heat, the fantastic light blocking his view - making it ten times harder to see anything. He squinted again as he scanned the crowd with his piercing eyes - intimidating authoritarian. The gun in his holster was heavy and cold against his shirt, reminding him of its constant presence.

He seen it coming, he knew it would happen but not as soon as this.

Suddenly, without warning the rebels and vigilantes, few in their numbers, but strong and vicious stormed the royal carriage. He automatically told the royal occupants to get down, reaching into his jacket in a swift move, he rung shots through the air. The riot progressed, people ran in all directions, police fired blank bullets at everyone and anyone, podiums collapsed, people screamed . He saw nothing, cared little for his safety, simply for that of the king and queen - Clarisse in particular. He jumped onto the ground, his shades falling off and smashing on the ground. He lifted himself up and ordering martin to see to the king, gun still in hand he reached into the open top carriage for her. She fumbled for his arm, fear swimming in her eyes. His hand reached for hers. Suddenly she was looking straight into his eyes, registering something he couldn't quite explain. His chest tightened as he paused, suddenly loosing grip on the situation around them. He jolted back into reality, and roughly pulled her from the carriage, and ducking slightly ran her through the riotous crowd - shielding her all to familiar face with his leather jacket.

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As he pulled the door open and ushered her hastily in, she smiled at him thankfully - but in confusion, she stopped.

"where are we?", she questioned, suddenly finding her voice and her authority.

"come on", he said, grabbing her upper arm roughly, " later".

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

She sat silently down on the leather couch and as he busied himself in the open plan kitchen, she managed to take in her surroundings. The place was modern, open plan, minimalist. The living space was expensively furnished, framed vintage posters of rock bands and movies covering the walls. Mid-day sun shone in through massive windows, lighting up the white walls and black décor.

"drink?", Joseph smiled, handing her a mug of tea which she accepted gratefully.

"I never expected that", she stated, removing her jacket, " it was all to sudden"

"I did", he said ruefully, moving towards the window, " times are uneasy and it makes my job terrifically hard - I'm just glad the young princes weren't there today".

"as am I", she said seriously, " it's so strained at the moment - the political situation isn't good. I'm glad you where there".

"hmmm", he confirmed, sitting down beside her. She looked up and smiled at him. As he sunk into the comfortable couch, he was struck by her close proximity - struck by the fact he could smell her perfume, feel every slight movement she made as he sat at a relatively safe distance.

"the political situation isn't any good because of my husband", she sighed, " he's-", she stopped, remembering who she was talking to. Someone who she knew she could trust undoubtedly but she couldn't trust herself. She could hardly think of anyone else and to open herself up to him - she feared it might just prove to difficult to hold herself back.

"what is this place?", she questioned, lifting the cup from her mouth and resting it on her lap, grateful she could perhaps change the subject.

"it's my out of palace residence", he smiled, amused at the bemusement on her face, " I liked it when I seen it".

"oh, you never told me", she said, more than a little put out. After all, he was her best friend and she figured they'd shared everything - everything they knew was suitable to discuss.

"I know", he smiled, sipping his coffee, " but I only bought it last month".

"ahhh", she smiled, feeling a little steadier, " it came in handy".

"it did. I'm grateful for the fact it was here now - it might just have saved your life".

"oh Joseph", she laughed nervously, not realising the enormity of the danger she'd just been in, " it wasn't that serious".

"your Majesty", he said darkly, shocked by her lack of concern he accidentally slipped into informality, " Clarisse it was serious - believe me". she hung her head a little, staring into her cup.

"I'm sorry - I just didn't realise. I know that the rebels detest the monarchy - and I don't blame them and Rupert's ignorance of their cause isn't helping much either".

"it will pass", he reassured, almost reaching for her hand but stopping himself in an act of horrible self restraint, "it's just unsettled at the moment - that's all".

"it's more than that", she sighed, reclining her head back lightly and closing her eyes, " he's causing so much strain - he doesn't care for the poor of this country. Yes, they are few in their numbers, a mere percentage of this country but they still exist". he nodded, and even though her eyes where closed, she knew he agreed. She had let out much more than she intended- but she trusted him, more than she trusted anyone else she knew.

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As she woke later that day, the apartment was quiet- the last of the sun shining in, bathing everything in a serene, orange glow. The soft rain splattered off the glass, making the air humid and sticky - ending the day in a show of lights and rain.

She woke slowly, curled up on Josephs leather couch with a blanket that smelled like him over her - she felt quite safe. She smiled, registering the room around her - the surreal fact she was lying on his couch, near him without fearing something would shatter what she felt for him.

She felt the sudden urge to move towards the window - to look out into the beautiful evening. She sat up and stretched out her legs- noticing the fact that her shoes where no longer there but by the side of the couch. She smiled, realising he'd obviously removed them - simply for her comfort.

As she reached the window, the sight was quite breathtaking. She could see police below, clearing up the last of what the rebels had left behind. She could see tourists leaving restaurants', pouring in their vast numbers onto the cobbled main street to prize their way through the quaint lanes and into tourists shops. The soft summer rain covered the people below, their laughter clinging to the hot air and balmy night. She smiled at the show below her - here she could watch the world around her without scrutiny and for that, she was grateful.

Joseph watched her from the other side of the room - she was quite clearly mesmerised by the view below her and hadn't registered his presence.

"it's like your own TV.", she said suddenly, catching him off guard and proving his musings wrong, " you can watch it all and it doesn't stop - it doesn't stop for you, no matter who you are".

"interesting way to put it", he said thoughtfully, walking to the massive window and standing beside her.

"I don't know, but that's how I see it", she smiled, placing her hand on the glass, " it's because I'm used to being the actor - it's a rare occurrence when I get to be the viewer".

"ahh, rare indeed", he smiled, understanding what she meant entirely, " I've just had a call, confirming the safety of his Majesty. I need to go and check on Martin's position, but I've not yet had security clearance to move you back home and that is unlikely till the morning."

"oh", she said abruptly, turning to face him, " don't leave me alone".

"I won't, Tony's coming down from the parliamentary chambers while I'm up their seeing to your Husband - I'll only be gone for a while, your Majesty".

"Joseph", she scorned, anger coming over her face, " I beg you to use my name- Clarisse!"

"I apologise, Clarisse", he said softly, " I will be back quicker than you know, Tony's outside just now - make yourself at home". she smiled at him a little, and as his eyes met hers she turned away, wishing to god she didn't feel like this for him.

Joseph resisted the almost overpowering urge to lift her face and draw her stunning eyes back to his, touch her lips softly with his, tell her how much he loved her.

"you should go", she whispered, almost inaudibly, her voice strained and breathless. He nodded and not trusting his weakness to her, turned on his heels. The walk to the front door had never seemed so long as it did in those five seconds that it took him. The air seemed so thin as he tried to breath - god the power she held over him, the way she made him feel was unbelievable, inexplicable - horridly disabling.

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Clarisse stepped into the massive shower in his bathroom. The searingly hot spray bounced off her skin, massaging her aching shoulders, relaxing the muscles in her body that had been so tense, so on edge when he had been there. She closed her eyes and exhaling deeply, ran her fingers through her hair. She knew what she felt for him, though if she admitted to herself she'd never felt like that for any man - even her husband. She'd never been in love, her life style, position, arranged marriage had never permitted it.

She resolved that in life, her hand was one of the worst. Her life was controlled, regimented, disgustingly observed the world over.

She washed her hair, using his shower gel because he had no use for shampoo. She laughed slightly to herself, she'd have to tease him about that later on. Then she realised that their relationship was more than just professional, they had silently confirmed their friendship through their

actions over the years. It was more than professional because they acted like friends, what other employer teased their employee on such a personal level and vice versa. What employee practically raised their employers children?

She shivered as she turned off the spray, pausing as she tried to shake the thought of him. She reached for the heated towel rail and wrapped the gigantic black towel round herself. She felt safe doing this in his house, safer than she felt in her own home, perhaps it was the relaxing atmosphere that he seemed to emmit had rubbed off on this place.

She stepped onto the cold tiles and padded quickly into the master bedroom. She smiled at it, noticing the picture of Philippe and Pierre on the bed side, beside pictures of his family. She didn't feel rude rummaging through his partially empty drawers. After all, he didn't live here - he lived down the halway from her. He wouldn't mind if she wore his pyjama's, she knew that he'd understand - a comforting thought.

She stood in from of the bathroom mirror, laughing at her curvy figured dwarfed in his huge night wear. She fetched her handbag, took her brush and ran it through her damp hair.

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Joseph unlocked the front door as he dismissed Tony. He felt reassured now, she was safe, so was the king. As he stepped in side, the smell of his shower gel filled his nostrils. The apartment was muggy and sticky, clearly advocating the thought that she'd had a shower. He smiled as he seen her then, brush in hand, tented in his old pyjama's, padding through his bed room door.

"I made use of your bathroom", she said shyly, receeding a little as she notcied him.

"you're quite welcome to", Joseph smiled, taking off his Jacket and throwing it over the edge of the couch, " and the pyjama's suit you". she laughed slightly, making her way towards him. He froze as she did so, frightened that if he moved he might sweep her into his arms and never let go, even if it where against her will.

"is everything ok?", she questioned, noticing his tension and unfortunately aware of what had caused it.

"yes, Clarisse", he lied, smiling slightly. She stopped at the window again, looking out.

"it's deserted out there now", she noted, motioning him towards the window, " it's so peaceful". he joined her, standing a safe distance away and looked out onto the street.

"hmmm", he sounded dumb, that, he realised-but he did not trust himself to speak.

Clarisse felt his sudden presence near her and she became panicky, not because she didn't trust him - she didn't trust herself. She couldn't stop herself as her hand reached for his, gripping it softly.

Joseph didn't startle as her hand wrapped itself around his, but he was shocked all the same. He accepted her clammy hand, looking down and then towards her face. He smiled a little at her, but didn't utter anything in fear it might shatter something which was so fragile. He squeezed her fingers gently, massaged her wrist with his other hand - until he took both of her hands in a fluidly movement and turned her to face him. She looked away as he did it, shyly avoiding his eyes. Shaking, he gently kissed the side of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at his touch - god, how long had she waited for this? Again, she was desperate to run from what she felt for him, but she was tired of running. She turned to face him, and he continued his blessed attack. His lips burned her forehead, kissed the bridge of her nose, her closed eye lids. She opened her eyes and fell into his arms. Squeezing him to her, she could feel his heart beating in his firm chest against her cheek.

Joseph faltered as she fell into his arms, but only for a moment. He suddenly realised what was happening - and god, did it feel wonderful. His hands rested shakily on her back as he held her close. She was shivering, but it wasn't cold.

"Clarisse…..", he trailed off, " oh, Clarisse". He repeated her name in wonderful worship. They had both waited for this, but had often chose to ignore what they felt for each other.

"Clarisse….. God, I've waited so long to do this", he breathed, kissing her hair repeatedly. She smiled against him, eyes still closed - memorising how he felt in her arms and praying that this wasn't a dream.

"Joseph……", she whispered, " Joseph - as have I". he kissed her then, burning, searing, full of love. Their first ever kiss. His presence near her, holding her, engulfing her. His hands tracing circles on her back as his mouth demanded more of her kiss, which she gave - not to reluctantly.

"my Clarisse….", he whispered, pulling back, " beautiful Clarisse". his hand cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes and turned in, kissing his palm.

"this isn't right", he continued weakly. Her eyes opened slowly. They where not angry or hurt but full of resolve.

"Joseph", she said softly, " I don't want to wait any longer".

_Did you like this little one shot, I hope you did please R&R._

_Yours,_

_M_


	2. Chapter 2

_None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. Ok, so I said it was a one - shot, I lied or rather I was cajoled into making it a chapter story. CJ and dame jules, this is for you and for my other wonderful reviewers - you guys rule!_

They early rain made the city of Pyrus smell fresh, the slightly grey sky dulling as the sun struggled to rise behind the mountains. The rain beating off the slippery streets and gurgling down murky drains made Clarisse shiver in the cool morning air. They were silent as they made there way down to the limo, his hand caressing her back. It felt alien to her, his hand in a place it usually occupied for protection but now, now it was that of a man who loved her - something she'd never felt before. She gulped in the cool air on the deserted street in a vain attempt to calm herself down. She could still see evidence of the previous days events- soggy paper streamers and flags flapping in the breeze hanging from shop windows, police barriers still erected around the royal podium.

He drew her towards him in the cool air as she shivered again and taking off his jacket, wrapped it around her. She smiled gratefully. He opened the door of the limo and quickly ushered her inside, his hand remaining at her back at all times - as if in possession of her and in possession, he was.

He had not made love to her and as much as she wanted that, she was grateful for its absence in their evening together. If it had never occurred to her before now, it began to occur now - she was having an affair. Something in her circles that was not uncommon but something she'd often held herself above and frowned upon, and now she was a perpetrator.

He didn't seem to care about that, in fact he'd told her the night before that he didn't care whatsoever about what they where doing, about the punishment and consequences it might entail - he knew one thing, that he loved her.

But now, now it was awkward - the silence like white noise in her ears burned her heart. He said nothing, his silence evidence of his resentment for their predicament, their rueful situation. She knew he didn't want this and she hoped he knew it was not what she desired either - it wasn't about what they wanted - it was about what others wanted.

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Rupert hugged her when she go to the top of the palace stairs - showing a united, loving, pretend front. She was motionless, stiff as always in his arms as he attempted to be emotional.

Joseph swallowed as King Rupert pulled Clarisse into his arms. He could still feel her in his arms as they lay sleeping on the couch, keeping each other warm. He could feel what Rupert was feeling, every curve, every breath, every murmur she made. He turned his head away as she looked at him over Rupert's shoulder - her eyes empty and dark. The pain coursing through his body was unbelievable, biting, hacking away at his soul - he was in love, in love with someone he could never have.

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Clarisse looked at her bathed, made-up reflection in the mirror. She wanted to scream - she had let go and now all she wanted to do was be with him, but she couldn't. it was torturous, waiting just to see his face, to hear his voice for that release - for the addictive high that coursed through her blood when he whispered her name.

The tears slithered underneath her eyelids, falling onto her dress. The pain was crippling, doubling her in two as she fell onto the rug - helpless in all ways. It had been heaven, it had been hell, it had been everything she'd wanted and imagined it to be - just lying in his arms, listening to his words, his breathing was her haven. It had been snatched away from her, as quickly as it was hers - it was gone and god, how it pained her. Nothing could compare to him and her resolve, her self assurance had all disappeared under his gentle command.

Joseph watched her from the door, his heart braking in all ways. Sobs racked her body as she shook in despair. He dreaded to think he was the perpetrator of such pain but doubtless, he was.

He made it across the room in record speed, joining her side. Attentively he put his arm around her and as she lifted her face to his, he could swear he seen a glimmer of hope in her eyes. How he wished to make that glimmer a light but in their situation that was deemed impossible.

"Clarisse", he whispered as she leaned against his chest, sobbing quietly, " oh my beautiful Clarisse". she gripped him tighter, pulling at him, holding him to no end.

"it won't end here, it can't end here", she whispered, her tone begging him. He startled at her comment, her lack of resilience on this matter taking him off- guard.

"oh Clarisse", he whispered, rocking her gently back and forth, " I wont let it, I promise. It can't - too long, we've waited too long". she nodded weakly, agreeing with him fully.

"Joseph", she sobbed, " this wasn't meant to happen - not like this, never like this. We weren't meant to do this". he looked down at her, meeting her crystalline eyes with his own, willing the demons that had invaded them to disappear.

"the heart does things for reason, that reason cannot understand".

_Ohhhh, did you like_

_Hope you did, please R&R._

_I plan to make this an adventure story as well as a romance and them dealing with their new, pronounced love. It's short, but the next one's gonna have lots, this was just to confirm my continuation of this story._

_Yours,_

_M_


	3. Chapter 3

_None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. Rupert's not evil in this, just not in love with her. Nothing mentioned, apart from my own characters belong to me. _

Clarisse dreaded the long journey to England - it often bored her. Why Rupert had insisted the boys attend school there, she wasn't sure. She hadn't wanted them to be shipped away - living in a country they barely knew to be educated by people of a different culture. He decided not to come, as he often did. She knew the boys weren't really bothered by his presence, or lack thereof but it bothered her. She knew she relied heavily upon Joseph to be their father - spend the little time they had out of education with them. At 10 and 12 years old they knew it was useless trying to get thier fathers attention. This was one of the little times of the year she looked forward to. Summer, where she could take them and be their real mother - be the mother they deserved.

As the plane landed and taxied along the slippery runway of Heathrow airport, he finally spoke to her.

"Clarisse are you ok?", her eyes darted up from her book and immediately met his, inquisitively. He smiled gently and across the table, reached for her hand. She startled and drew back, avoiding his eyes.

"sorry", he said, more than a little put out. He'd moved too quickly and for that, he mentally kicked himself. Her reaction was sudden and utterly apologetic as she stammered to resolve the feeling she'd suddenly caused.

"no", she said, waving her hand dismissively, " don't apologise, I just - ohhhh, I don't know", she continued, frustration evident in her voice.

"I'm not comfortable here, I'm never comfortable - nothing seems to suit me".

"this is not the stereotypical, comfortable affair, is it?", he questioned dryly, a laugh lacing his voice.

No, I suppose not", she laughed, smiling slightly, " it's not. And even calling it an affair sickens me but that's what it is and I'm ashamed, aren't you?"

He stared at her for a long, contending moment and she felt strange, as if he was unceremoniously judging her.

"I'm not ashamed", he said finally. His tone contained no malice or hurt in fact, it was almost apologetic, " but I know I should be, perhaps I'm selfish".

"no!", she reprimanded hastily, waving her hand at him, " no, you're not. God Joseph, I wish I could turn around and be utterly proud of the fact that I want to be with you but it's wrong and I can't. I can't because I know it's not right, it's morally wrong and it's not something to be proud of".

"I'm not asking you to tell the whole world about it, I just want this to work as much as something like this can work", he answered, almost confusing himself with his nervous and muddled words.

Again his hand resurfaced from underneath the table and rested on top. This time it was her that made the move as her fingers hastily laced with his in attempt to sooth him. His eyes shot up to hers, the daring look in her eyes warned him not to react but simply take it as if it where normal, something that was done - simply between 'friends'. he gripped the tip of her fingers and smiling slightly, he tried to understand the complex but utterly intriguing woman before him.

As the silence that had fallen over them as they held each others hand enveloped him, he couldn't help it and as much as he tried to resist, slipped into painful thought again. He couldn't quite believe that earlier that day, he'd promised her that he'd never let 'them' end, but was there even a 'them' to be ended? What had they done to confirm it, told each other how they felt - yes, but resolved the conflict of love and reality - no.

She was right, what they were doing was wrong but it didn't stop him being desperate to do the wrong thing for once. To make love to her as the sun came up, to drag her away from everything that weighed her down, to free her.

He was shaken, mentally beaten from knowing she was suffering because of his love for her, and god how he loved her. It wasn't fair what they where asking of each other and that, he knew but ultimately he felt reassured. A calming hope that perhaps they could work around the shame, her position, his desperation - the conflict that tugged continuously at the exhausted strings of their hearts.

Clarisse noted how his eyes had glazed over and from what she could tell, the thoughts and hopes resurfacing where perhaps too much for him to contend with.

"Joseph…..", she said, relieved that the plane had halted, givingsomething to distract them - If only for a little while.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking", he smiled, lifting her hand and looking around checked all of the staff where out of sight, kissed it hastily but full of meaning at the same time. She smiled serenely.

"it's hard", he whispered, " but let's not lose it now".

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In the middle of Pyrus City park, the man in dark glasses sat sipping the boiling hot coffee as he waited for Cruz to arrive. He was sturdy looking, and the impeccably tailored suit that encased his body gave off the respectful image so typical of Genovia. His black hair neatly combed and gelled back - he looked respective, nothing obtrusive or dark. Yes, Xavier Asesinato was someone who looked and felt himself in high regard.

He seen Cruz, hair unruly and oily, walking towards him in the park. If he wanted to attract attention - he could easily get it from his messy appearance. The rebels often intended to look unkempt and it bothered him a great deal, if you were going to rebel be snake like and conceivable, not down right obvious. He didn't like that in a man and that bothered him, perhaps he may have to deal with Cruz.

As Cruz came to stand in front of him, he didn't greet him, or register his presence. He motioned with a soft, delicate, almost effeminate hand to the bench next to him.

"Asesinato?", Cruz questioned, taking a seat. His voice was rough as he addressed the man on the bench. Asesinato gave curt nod, and almost smiled - almost.

"I finally get to meet you", Cruz said, partially star struck, " you care for our cause - I like that".

"did I say you could speak? and be aware, I am a vindictive man and I will have my way. I care little for your cause in fact, I don't care at all but I want her to suffer - for revenge", Asesinato said softly, chillingly, still staring out at the grass and fountain in the centre of the park.

"but I thought - ", Cruz stammered. He'd heard of this man, of his brutality, of his ruthlessness. He cared little about their cause, that he did not know! He had the blood of women and children on his hands and soon, the blood of the monarchy would be dripping from those hands also.

" it is vital you do not address me, or call me - I will be in touch with you. If you do, fear for your life and that of your girlfriend, who's not at work today, by the way. She had a migraine and felt sick. Fear for the life of your parents if you betray me, I can easily sink a cruising yacht and they just docked in the south of France, dangerous place to venture out of an evening. Your young nephew wouldn't want to be knocked down before his school play, where he's playing the lead- would he?". Cruz bit his lip and almost shaking with fear, shook his head in conformation.

"good - we wouldn't want any accidents", Asesinato said mechanically, " tonight, you pick up the goods at the port - dock 32". As Cruz sat their, fear pumping through his veins Asesinato bowed his head slightly and his walk perfect and manly, wandered towards the black car waiting on the other side of the fountain. He would see that she suffered, so he could watch the pain in his eyes as she breathed her final breath. He would watch Josephs' face as she rattled her last words and he would enjoy it - to have his revenge was his ultimate high.

He could use their rebel cause as a front, he cared nothing for the few 'poor' Genovian's. God, he wasn't even Genovian, he was Spanish. It had been luck, pure luck that someone had let it slip they were good friends but he knew that they probably weren't just good friend. The parade the other day had perhaps been evidence that they where more than friends. And even if they were just friends, it didn't matter because Joseph would suffer the shame and humiliation knowing he'd failed the royal family.

Right now, they were in London, in the Carlton Ritz sitting down to dinner in the restaurant, the palm court to be precise, in a secluded corner as she had requested. The security doted about the gilded, grand room were quietly obtrusive - intimidating the other diners a little. He knew this because he knew everything - they say a man has only two eyes, he had eyes and ears and knifes and guns all over the cruel world.

Rosa had never knew, never knew he loved her - Joseph deserved to suffer the same.

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"I don't want to eat alone",Clarisse smiled, motioning elegantly with her hand to the seat across from hers at the table.Joseph smiled slightly and waving a dismissive hand at his deputy, Martin, he joined her - finally alone again.

"no, it's not a pleasurable experience", he smiled, slipping of his jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair.

" but with you…..", she trailed off, running her finger along the rim of her water glass.

"with me?", he questioned raising an eye brow. It was interesting, her slight change every time they spoke. The fact that her confidence seemed to grow a little every time they tried to tackle their unconventional love.

"with you, it's nice - it's one of the things in my life that seem stable at the moment", she answered, sipping the water, almost as if she was bored and needed something to do.

"this is what you want?", he questioned, resisting the urge to take her hand and instead holding her gaze.

"I think so, no I know I do - I just need time to let it all settle. It's not something I never dreamed I do - have an affair. What kind of person or role model does that make me?".

"I suppose it's frowned upon but, I don't know. I guess because I'm part of it, I'd be hypocritical not to condone it - it takes two to tango, right?".

"right", she confirmed, laughing. He smiled again, glad to hear her laugh.

"tell me about you", she suddenly said, her curiosity about his life and the realisation she knew little about his past suddenly hitting her.

"Ok", he laughed, smiling slightly as the maitre d' placed a bottle of red wine in front of them.

"good evening, your majesty", he said in his heavily French accented English, " sir", he continued, inclining his head to Joseph.

"good evening", Clarisse smiled regally, straightening up in her chair. He took both their orders and bounced off, looking rather pleased at the fact that he'd just conversed with another royal. Joseph laughed and smiled.

"you where saying?", she questioned, leaning back and relaxing a little more.

"you where asking about my past, nothing very interesting - not as interesting as yours", she raised an eye- brow and sipped her glass of wine, ready to listen.

"I was the oldest. My Mama worked hard to keep us because my father didn't earn much - he was a heavy drinker and he was heavy handed as well when he felt like it. I was lucky enough to be intelligent and determined to get out of my life. Rosa, my eldest sister died when she was fifteen . I left for the army when I was 17. Carmen, she got married, settled down and had lots of kids and Pedro has done well, he works in Barcelona and goes home at weekends - he's a chief executive", he finished proudly. Clarisse smiled, his determination was something she loved about him.

"what happened to Rosa?", she questioned, toying with the pearls around her neck in curiosity.

His face suddenly looked painful, as if he was recalling a distant memory that hurt terribly.

"I'm sorry", she said quickly, realising she'd clearly made a mistake, " I wasn't sure if it was alright to ask".

"no it is, it's just that it's something I don't like to discuss but I suppose it's you and that's different", he smiled, taking in how she looked pleased he trusted her.

"thank you", she smiled.

"when I was younger, much younger I had a best friend, his name was Xavier . He was like a brother I suppose, and we were unfathomably close. We were the original pranksters, but I'm diverging. Anyways, Rosa was young and impressionable and Xavier often got his way with the ladies - he took her the wrong way and one night, when he was drunk, he took advantage of my little sister - against her will……Well, it happened and she lost it completely, he tried to take her away, screaming he was in love with her. Rosa didn't return the sentiment and well, he'd hurt her bad. One day she was there - the next she was dead. She used my Rope and she -", he chocked on his words, " I tried to cut her down but it was no use - it was horrible. I went after him as he was running in his car after news of her death got round our village - I nearly killed him, but I couldn't. I left him on the road side weeping openly and begging for his life - I never seen him again".

Clarisse sat there partially in shock, something he'd held in for years was now spilling over to her and she was glad to listen. She swallowed, looking at him intenty- he smiles sheepishly, as if he'd done something wrong.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know", she whispered apologetically as she leaned over the table, a little nearer.

"it's ok", he smiled, " it was years ago - and I'm glad she didn't have to suffer that fact he'd took her and humiliated her - she was so young and I couldn't quite believe he could rob a child of her innocence".

"no I suppose not", she said sadly.

"anyway, it's not to dwell on. No more about my past - this is about us and our future".

_Ahhh, did you like?_

_Hope you did_

_Please R&R._

_Yours,_

_M_

_IT'S SUMMER! YAH YAH YAH! SUMMER!_


	4. Chapter 4

_None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. Hell, nothing mentioned belongs to me!_

_Harrow's a private boarding school, just out side London (just in case they where talking about harrow and you didn't know, I'm not insulting your intelligence though! Lol, 8-) ) oh yeah, Joe and Clarisse are like 29 or something, artistic licence with age!_

" I phoned ahead, to Harrow. They know you're coming for the ceremony but the boys don't, they'll be glad", Joseph smiled as they stopped at her door. Their dinner had been wonderful - the first light conversation they'd shared in a week - spare about Rosa but that was in the past.

"they'll be glad to see you too", she smiled, reminding him of how much her children admired him.

"hmm, yes", he smiled, somewhat unsure of himself in this new predicament. He was standing outside her suite - which was linked to his, speaking to her as the woman he loved but he knew they were not ready for that - too much emotionally to overcome before considering that.

"good night, Joseph", she whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. He was sure she'd read his mind and he didn't doubt she was feeling the same.

"good night Clarisse", he smiled, cupping her cheek, " it's better this way - slowly". She nodded in complete agreement, closing her eyes and taking in everything he said, how he felt as his hand caressed her cheek.

"I love you", she suddenly whispered, again taking matters in to her own hands, " I mean it, I love you". He smiled as she opened her eyes. Sparkling and wonderful and full of life as she looked at him.

"my beautiful Clarisse….", he managed, before it over powered him. Exhaustion suddenly sweeping over his body as he registered her heavenly words. She had said it, after all this time and this time when she said it, she wasn't scared, she wasn't forceful - she was pure and unrelenting.

"goodnight", he smiled, " goodnight, my beautiful Clarisse".

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Cruz rubbed his hand together against the breezy chill, and hugging his jacket around him blew hot air into his cupped hands. The men were late and he was getting impatient and jumpy. The cargo coming through on the small fishing boat was certainly something that could attract attention. The lights over head were dim and he really couldn't make anything out. Suddenly a voice, a voice he'd only heard once but would recognise anywhere startled him.

"you actually came", Asesinato chilled, leaning against a crate.

"y-y-yeah", Cruz stuttered, more from fear than the cold summer breeze.

"good, perhaps I underestimated you", Asesinato noted allowed, " there is no boat, this crate here has everything I need ".

He handed Cruz a crow bar and stepped away from the crate. His hands were stiff from the cold, but the crate was easy to open and after three wrenches, the lid lifted making a defining, hollow thud as it hit the dirty floor.

The cold, stale smell of metal hit him. The crate was an arsenal - but for only one piece of prey.

"surely you don't need all of this shit just to get to her, you're only taking her captive, right?", Cruz said, looking at Asesinato as if he were mad.

"you've never met her head of security. Have you?", he questioned, reaching inside the crate and taking out a shiny new hand gun. He did not like people questioning him, his respectability or his methods.

"n-n-no", Cruz stuttered, never taking his eyes off the gun that Asesinato seemed to be threatening him with indirectly.

"no", Asesinato smiled, running a leather clad finger up and down the barrel of the gun. Cruz was shaking and he could see that, he liked having that effect on people, " no that's right".

Cruz heard the gun ring through the air, the pain rumbled through his chest as his white shirt turned crimson. He fell to the cold, hard floor as his breath rattled in his throat.

Asesinato hovered above him, deciding whether he should shoot him or if he should leave him to die slowly as he surely would. He decided on the latter - it meant he would suffer more. Slowly he pulled the legs of his trousers up, so they wouldn't crease and bent down - running the cold metal of the gun along the barely living mans jaw-line.

"never doubt me, or my methods. I'm not a one man band. I have eyes and ears and murderers all over the world - trust me, I know how to deal with things and people - people like you", he stood up, and kicked Cruz in the side until he rolled over spurting blood out of his mouth viciously.

"you'll die in at least three hours", he smiled, putting the pocket watch back in his pocket, " R.I.P, I no longer need you".

Cruz watched his figure become blurry in the dark of the night - it was the lat thing the 23 year old ever saw.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Captain Tony Vengrola looked at the young boys body in front of him - the gun in his hand, it had been a clear suicide. A shame it was, such a young life wasted in such a land of opportunities. He'd certainly shot himself in a place where it might take a good while for him to breath his last. Tragedy, a real tragedy, he thought as he zipped up the white bag.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Harrow sat on top of Harrow hill and as Clarisse neared the fifteenth century building, she couldn't wait to see them. She looked down at her out-fit, utterly elegant. Utterly queenly. A silk green dress that clung enticingly to her curves, pearls, green shoes, and a green jacket. She looked like royalty always did, but Joseph couldn't help but notice how particularly beautiful she looked.

"you look lovely", he smiled as he helped her out of the car, " I don't know if I said".

"no", she smiled, " but thank you".

"you're welcome", he continued, his hand making small circles on her back as they noticed the man striding to them across the perfectly cut lawn. He was beefy and broad but seemed to exude energy of a tyrannical quality. His mortar bored sat at an odd angle on his moist brow, repulsing Clarisse a little more than usual and his robes flew behind him, almost as if they were trying to catch up.

"your Majesty", he breathed, smiling a little, " I am Master Pickering, Master of Harrow".

"hello", she smiled, offering her hand which he kissed dutifully, " this is my Head of Security, Joseph". Joseph offered his hand for a shake but Pickering simply ignored it, instead looking Joseph over with slight disdain.

"this way", Pickering continued, motioning to the massive oak doors at the other end of the lawn. As soon as his back was turned, Joseph turned to her, his eyes dancing with delightful anger as he raised an eye brow. In one swift move she reached over and grabbing his arm, kissed his cheek soothingly. He paused momentarily as she continued to follow, feeling with his hand the place she had brushed her lips.

"come along Joseph", she sniggered, a teasing tone acting on her sing - song voice as she smiled over her shoulder, " don't want to be late, might make us lesser people". He laughed at that and caught up, perhaps 'them' might just work.

"Pierre Renaldi!", Pickering bellowed, " first place, Polo Player of the year". Clarisse brimmed with pride as her son took the polo trophy from the Master. The youngest but tallest member of the team, he'd made quite an impression and as he brandished his trophy with manly pride, she turned to Joseph. The pride on his face made her heart swell, she wasn't aware that one man could care so much for so many people and little for himself.

"Philippe Renaldi, honorary Junior writer and Musician of the year!", he bellowed again. Clarisse frowned lovingly as her ten year old tripped and nearly fell as he mounted the steps to receive his trophy, grinning dopily. Joseph simply shook his head and raised an eye brow at Clarisse, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her little boys display.

Philippe didn't want to stay up there and that was clear. He vaulted off the stage as quickly as possible as the awards ceremony ended, followed behind by his brother as they bounded to meet their mother and Joseph.

"Mama! Joe!", they chorused, hugging one and then the other.

"hello my darlings!", Clarisse laughed, falling off balance as Philippe descended on her waist in a gripping hug again. Joseph caught her back and levelled her, she smiled appreciatively at him before returning her attention to her children.

"my! Look how you have grown!", she laughed, holding both of them at arms length, " god, I've missed you", she continued, pulling both of them into a hug.

"we wont come back next year", Pierre quickly suggested, positioning his mother awkwardly. It wasn't as if she didn't know her children detested living so far away from home, but what could she do?

"Pierre", Joseph warned darkly, Clarisse release the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Pierre hung his head slightly and mumbled an apology - it wasn't as if he didn't know thatit was his fathers doing that had sentthem here.

"it's ok darling", she smiled, lifting his chin up and placing a slight kiss on his forehead, " we'll discuss it later".

"Mama! Mama!", Philippe squealed, tugging on the side of her dress.

"Philippe?", she questioned, looking down on him with affection.

"ohhhh, what time do we go home?", he questioned, tugging on her hand and pulling her towards the doors of the grand hall. She followed, Joseph closely beside her in deep conversation with Pierre.

"ahh, not until tomorrow darling", she answered, " why?"

"are we staying in London over night?", Pierre chimed in, before Philippe could even answer. She gave her elder son a disapproving look for interrupting, but couldn't help but smile at his puppy dog eyes.

"yes, in London - we'll do whatever you want today", she smiled, stepping out into the warm English sun. Joseph smiled at how wonderful and glowing she looked as her sons almost skipped around them.

He scooped a squealing Philippe up and swung him onto his shoulders, near giving Clarisse a fit as she reached up to steady her swinging son. She gave Joseph an almost motherly frown as he smiled sheepishly.

"honestly, you two will hurt yourself one day", she warned, trying to keep the smile of her face.

"Mama! Don't think so", Philippe teased, waving his hands unceremoniously in the air. She couldn't help but feel more contented than she had in years. She had Joseph and at least it might just appear as if it was working. She had told him and now it was up to them. She had her sons, even if it was only for a short while. It was the nearest thing to a family she'd ever get and she intended to enjoy it.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

As they all fell into the lift of the Ritz, the bell boy gave them a bemused look. Clarisse couldn't ever recall doing so much fun things in the one day. Harrods, Hamleys, Imperial war Museum, a boat on the Thames, lunched at Mac Donald's - which she had to admit was not the most pleasurable experience, took in a musical and ate in a Chinese restaurant. She was utterly exhausted now and her feet were killing her. She smiled over at Joseph who was cradling a sleeping Philippe in his arms. His head resting on Joe's shoulder, his eyes screwed shut - she laughed a little, he looked utterly angelic.

"are you tired?", she questioned quietly to Pierre who was leaning on her,battling sleep. He nodded mutely, a yawn escaping his lips as he did so. The lift stopped and they slowly exited into their suite. Joseph lowered the sleeping philippe on to his bed and Clarisse carefully undressed him and slipped the covers over him. Pierre had long changed and curled up in the bed across from his brother, sleep taking over almost immediately.

Clarisse smiled as she stood in the doorway of their bedroom - god how she loved them. She smiled at Joseph as he came to stand next to her and as his hand encircled her waste - she didn't jump, she simply relaxed into him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"they're cute", he whispered, contentment somehow coming over him.

"yes", she agreed quietly. She turned and pulling out of his embrace, came to stand in front of him in the doorway. Her lips burned on his as she kissed him softly. He knew that this time, it was both of them who wanted it and almost consciously, he demanded more of her kiss.

They didn't see Pierre as his eyes opened momentarilybecause he heard them in the doorway. They didn't realise the contentment on his face wasn't from childish dreams as they turned to take one last look. The contentment was there because he knew that somehow, they'd finally get to each other.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Asesinato watched form the side of the run way with the small gathering ofpress as they descended the stairs. It was the first time in years he'd seen Joseph in person. He had practically never changed, still young and athletic looking, though his hair did look as if it where thinning a bit. She was pretty, in fact beautiful and he knew it was likely that Joseph and her were more than just good friends. After all Joseph could never resist a beautiful looking woman. Joseph's hand rested on her back as they made their way to the cars flanked by at least 5 security men. He smiled slyly to himself - he wondered if Joseph knew this was the last time he'd get to touch her, he hoped he didn't. in truth, he didn't really want to kill her but if it would hurt him, it was vital she suffered. Her children smiled at the flashing camera's, clearly trained in dealing with the press at such a young age. A pity really, that there innocence had been warped at such a young age - not to dwell on though.

He moved quietly through the small crowd, his shades shielding the face he knew might just be recognised by a certain someone. His men moved as he did, but separately. Fear was something he did not give pleasure to. Fear and love were for the weak and weak, he was not. He could feel the cold metal of the gun swinging loosely under his jacket and it made him tingle with a perverse pleasure. His men emerged, all with the same guns swinging loosely in the same holsters. He'd arranged it this way, so they could make a big entrance. His 15 men, highly trained in the art of deception and murder slowly, in the frenzy around them stuck knifes in the backs of the security men …………. that was when hell finally started to burn.

Joseph turned around as he heard a scream emulate from one of the crowd. His men dropped right left and centre blood pooling around them on the tarmac, his deputes' Martin and Franz were down as well, he was well and truly on his own. Men surrounded them and as a figure moved forward into the crowd, he realised, with extreme fear they were a threat to the three people he was meant to protect. Philippe gripped him tightly and as the figure advanced forward, Clarisse turned to him - fear pooling in her eyes. The reporters tried to push past to get to a phone, to some help but if anyone moved they shot and their aim, it was deadly.

"Joseph", Clarisse whispered, almost distantly, " Joseph, what's happening?"

"I don't know", Joseph mumbled, reaching inside his Jacket but the figure, now standing fully in front of them spoke.

"do not reach for the ak87 in your holster, it is of no use to you", he said coldly, mechanically.

"what?", Joseph mustered, holding Clarisse a little tighter and grabbing Pierre so he was nearer. He was facing his worst nightmare, facing something he'd trained to do but not on his own and certainly not with three people to protect.

" I said do not reach for the gun", the character cooed, coming nearer. No one did anything, the men standing on the tarmac were willing to shoot and the crowd had all but learned that.

He cradled the gun in his gloved hand and as he reached them, took the sick initiative to point it at Philippe's head. The little boy did not move, but the tears escaped down his face.

"do not hurt my child!", Clarisse almost screamed, " what do you want?". Her imploring nearly killed Joseph and as he reached for his gun the man again stopped him with aiming it at Pierre. Joseph swallowed, he didn't care if they shot him but if they shot the boys …… or Clarisse, it did not bare thinking about.

"it would be foolish to try to shoot me", he smiled, " it is not pleasant to see a child's' brain blown out, is it now?". Joseph cringed at that and he felt Clarisse wince.

"tell us what you want!", Joseph shouted, shaking with anger and helplessness. Clarisse knew he could do nothing and the frustration was almost pushing him over the edge.

"I want the queen", he said, this time pushing the gun against Philippe's head, " I really don't know which one to shoot - or should it be both?". The small scream which escaped Clarisse's lips pasted a smile on the mans face and Joseph felt a strange sense of recognition of that smile.

"let go of me", she suddenly whispered, turning to Joseph. His eyes widened abruptly and his face was a hard-answered no.

"let me go", she begged quietly, trying to gently shake his grip of her. Asesinato watched in amusement, no Joseph and her were not just friends - that made it all the more fun.Joseph's eyes filled up with love and as if she knew how he felt, she answered his eyes with a soft smile.

"Clarisse!", Joseph tried, but it was no use and for some strange reason he felt as if he had no choice but to let her go. He released her helplessly, feeling as if he was signing away her life - something he never wished he had to do. She smiled suddenly, as if she was trying to reassure him she didn't blame him but how could she not - he was to blame, he'd failed her.

"no Mama!", Pierre shouted, tears streaming down his face. Asesinato grabbed her arm before she could change her mind. It had been interesting putting her in that position, seeing how both of them would react.

"Joseph!", she implored, reaching and gripping the side of his face as Asesinato brought the cold metal of the gun into contact with her head, " Joseph don't let them hurt my children!".

"Please!", Joseph suddenly begged, " don't do this, shoot me, hurt me but not her, not the children!". Asesinato smiled as he kept her walking back wards with her as he pointed the gun at them. He liked seeing Joseph like this, it was simply amusing. the cars behind him reved up as the men he had brought jumped into the cars. Asesinato paused just before the end car and turned to Joseph, a smile curling at his lips.

"it will be more fun this way, more chilling. This is the last time you will see her - she will never know the extent of your love".

_Hello, I know that was long but I'm trying to write longer chapters - hope you enjoyed it and please R&R._

_Yours,_

_M_


	5. Chapter 5

_None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. Hell, nothing mentioned belongs to me! See if you notice the names of characters I've stuck in from some of Julie Andrews' other movies._

Joseph crouched down in front of the boys as they sat on his desk in his office. The sound of telephones ringing, computers buzzing, people briefing, guns being polished, orders being given was distant as the teams next door in the main security and intelligence wing of the palace worked desperately to locate their Queen. Philippe sipped the hot chocolate he had handed him, as did Pierre. It was 12 am, dark out side now and they hadn't been able to find her as the last of the summer rain parted the clouds and the lightening snaked its way through the openings, hindering there search severely.

"we'll find her", he promised, placing a hand on each of the boys knees, " I promise".

"where is our father?", Pierre asked pointedly, knowing that Rupert was probably too busy to care - only Joseph cared.

"he's busy, Pierre", Philippe said, as if his older brother had asked a dumb question, " father's always busy".

"look, boys", Joseph tried, his head tired and heavy from everything and truthfully, talking about Rupert's inadequacies at the moment was not top priority, " it's late, you should go to bed".

"Mama puts us to bed", Philippe said ruefully. Joseph winced, god he wished she could.

"I know, son", he sighed as he lifted him off the desk and motioned for Pierre to jump down, " but tonight, I'll do it".

Pierre could see the pain in the Head of Security eyes and as much as he knew it was there because he was as stressed as everyone else - he also knew it was there for a much deeper reason. A reason that, in hindsight, was much deeper than anyone, even Pierre, had ever suspected.

Joseph closed the door of their bed chamber behind him and leaning, exhausted against it let his eyes slide closed for just a moment. The pain coursing through him was quite unbelievable - the thought that she…… he stopped thinking it, it would be too much to contend with. Their search was proving futile. Yet, it seemed ten times worse for him. The men who were out there, battling winds and rain and silent killers to get to her were out there looking for an important, influential woman - he was here trying to track the woman that he loved.

Opening his eyes, he looked along the dim corridor towards her door. To where, behind that door she should be sleeping peacefully. Sliding the door open, he crept inside. The room smelled like her and it felt like oxygen as it rushed into his nostrils. He convulsed in the dark room, feeling utterly helpless. He'd never cried like that in his life as he lay on her bed, the tears wouldn't stop. Never had he been so weak, so failed, never had he been so in love.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Clarisse woke, too afraid to open her eyes as horrible memories flooded her brain, the sleeping drug had finally wore off. Eventually she pried them open as she tried to sit up, her hand were tied and her mouth gagged preventing her from sitting up very comfortably. She took in the room around her. It was simple, monstrously so. The bed she occupied was situated, no squashed, into a corner. The room smelled damp and stale, fresh air being of little presence at all. The windows were dirty and from what she could make out, it was night time out side. The bars that decorated them were a threatening inconvenience.

"nice to see you awake", a voice came from the corner, causing her to jump. She turned her eyes on him, full of anger and hate. He stood up slowly and approaching her, peeled the industrial tape from her swollen lips.

"let me go!", she screamed as soon as it was gone and she could muster the courage to speak.

"fiery little madam", he laughed, " I can see what he likes about you".

"what?", she snapped, " who?"

"why Joseph", the man said. She had to wonder who he was. She didn't recognise him but perhaps it was because of the shades that shielded his eyes. Suddenly, she felt sick - how did he know Joseph?

"what", she chocked, " has my head of security go to do with this?".

"everything", he laughed, removing his gloves and glasses. He advanced forward, closing the small space between the bed and the chair. Lifting her tied hands he kissed them, mockingly.

"my name is Xavier ", he cooed, amused at the recognition and horror on her face, " I'm pleased to meet you".

Clarisse swallowed back her scream, knowing it would most likely anger him.

"Xavier?".

"yes, Xavier", he laughed, turning his back on her and returning to his chair, " you know me".

"yes", she whispered, the full enormity of the situation looming in a black wave before her, " why are you doing this?"

"it is simple, is it not?", she did not answer, for he continued, " he left me to die, regardless of the fact his sister loved me on the side of a dusty road - I will do as he done to me, I will never let the woman he loves be with him". his tone was cool, relaxed, almost serene.

"you abused his sister!", she screamed, " you are mad!". his face became angry and he flew across the room, slapping her face harshly.

"I did not hurt her - she loved me!", he screamed madly. His eyes were insane and clearly he didn't understand that Rosa had never loved him, never wanted him.

"she loved me! She loved me! She loved me!", he repeated, slapping her each time he screamed it. She fell back on to the bed shaking with fear as her faced became bloody and bruised. So this was being kidnapped, this was what she would have to endure.

"that will teach you", he breathed, running his fingers through her hair and kissing it, " never to speak out of turn".

Xavier moved away from her and to the cracked mirror that hung on the wall. He smoothed down his hair and tie, looking utterly respectable and as he finished, he turned to her.

"you will die and he will see it", he smiled, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say, " and I - I shall enjoy it". he swiftly moved across the room and pulled open the door of it, locking it behind him.

Clarisse curled up into a ball, wishing this was all some terrifically terrifying nightmare- it wasn't. she cried then, unstoppable , breath -preventing tears.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Joseph picked up the phone and as he did, it chilled him to the bone. The voice, he recognised as the man who had taken her from him.

"Joseph", he swam down the line, " do you want to hear her scream?"

"no!", Joseph answered immediately, " no, what do you want?". All the men in the office stopped to look at him, screaming down the phone line - Martin was the one with the savvy to record the call and make an attempt to trace the number.

"I want to see you suffer", the caller answered. The voice, it was familiar but It seemed like a distant, old familiar, not a fresh one. Joseph pushed that thought aside, it was his mind playing tricks on his tired hopes.

"is that all you want?", he questioned in frustration, " why didn't you kill me?"

"because if you watch the woman you love suffer, it will hurt more and knowing she loves you back…………..", and with that, the line went dead.

Joseph cringed as everyone in the base stared at him while they listened to the recording. They were shocked to hear the revelations in the callers last words, shocked at his madness - how on earth could they suspect the Queen loved Joe, that was stupid! They laughed hardly, but returned instead to trying to find the man who now held her captive.

Joseph slowed as he neared the kings office that night, finally the king had called for him - at 3.30 in the morning. The stale smell of cigars and books hit him as he entered the room. It was dull and for that, he was glad. His eyes were puffy and red from crying and lack of sleep and as much as he wasn't shocked at the fact he'd cried he was a man and he didn't like to show weakness - certainly not in a situation like this. The caller had unsettled him even more, this was no stranger - this was someone he knew.

"Joseph, Joseph…", the King tried, pulling him from his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Your majesty", he muttered, tiredly, " I'm sorry - so much to think about". Rupert nodded and motioned to the seat before him, Joseph sat quite gladly.

"she's still missing", Joseph stated, " and the man who has her has proved elusive, even to us". he lied, still niggling that somewhere in time, he'd met the man who was holding her captive.

"is there anything I can do?", Rupert questioned, almost as helplessly as Joseph answered.

"no sir", he sighed, shaking his head, " perhaps your sons could use your support".

"they are home?", he questioned, a little shocked. Joseph resisted the feeling to shout at him for his ignorance of his two children and his wife.

"yes sir", he sighed, " I need to return now".

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

As Joseph threw himself down on his desk chair he was finally alone. They had made little progress. That point sent dread through him. The mans voice was accented in a Spanish tone, and if he took her over the border it was out of there hands. That thought he could not deal with and for a moment, he rested his head on the desk - trying to fight sleep but it was no use and slowly he slipped into the most fitful sleep of his life.

He woke as Mr Marchand burst through the door, startling him awfully.

"Joseph! Joseph!", he whined, " the phone, it's him, pick up the phone!". Joseph lunged forward to the phone on his desk and quickly lifted the receiver.

"Joseph?", the caller crackled, distantly.

"who are you?", Joseph questioned, this time coolly, timely not agitated and despaired.

"that you will find out soon", he snickered, " she is quite the fiery lady", he added. Joseph winced, he couldn't quite detain his meaning.

"what do you plan to do to her?", he questioned, his stomach retching.

"I plan to make her suffer, that, I though was clear".

"it was", Joseph chocked, " what must I do to save her".

"you can do nothing Joseph", he laughed, " you can do nothing. You will know were to find me something you often forget, I am a creature, I am no human. Not any more - I am near your second home and you know me well……", and again he was gone. Joseph's frustration grew.

He banged his fist on the desk in frustration - it was utterly impossible to find him, and what kidnapper would want to give his identity away anyway. This was what puzzles him, this man wanted to be caught - wanted to be know, wanted to be glorified but he was no rebel. He was deadly, fascinating almost in his madness. He wanted Joseph to see her die and that tormented him - he knew him! He knew him! And that played over and over and over again in his tired head. This person wanted revenge and in his sick, unconventional way he was having it. Little by little, he was giving himself away and by the time he was revealed, Joseph had the terrible feeling the monster intended that Clarisse be dead.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Clarisse again, woke from a drug induced sleep. Groggy and sore, every bone in her body ached as she tried to sit up. She startled as she realised her cell had changed. It was no longer the concrete room, it was an improvement - if only slightly in what seemed like a helpless situation. It was an apartment, homely and comfortable - it made her feel cold inside.

She was alone again, something that often had appealed to her but now, now it was dreadful. She knew his return was imminent and that petrified her. She was afraid of what he might do and, over the last forty eight hours in his clutches she had learned he was ruthlessly insane and evil - something that she had felt first hand. The cuts on her hands had stopped bleeding, now congealed and gory. Her face was swollen, painful and tender as she winced in pain each time he hit her. Nothing could prevent his sick game and she found herself wishing it was all over - wishing the inevitable, wishing she were dead.

He had recorded her screams last night as she suffered at the hands of his thugs. They had beaten her - nearly until she though she was dead - she wasn't sure what it was but somehow, she felt as if she might just be - or she wasn't. nothing had any borders now - everything merged into one monstrous black wave and she felt everything she was suffering magnified because nothing was real anymore. She was in some parallel of the real world - some hell that gripped hold of her.

The only thing she could remember or feel that was good was Joseph and what they had managed to build over their short time of recognition. She knew that somewhere, he'd be doing all he could to save her - unaware that it was pointless, because she was dead anyway - dead to the world. She slipped into unconsciousness at that last, unwavering thought - he loved her.

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It was late morning now and nothing, nothing had been advanced. Joseph looked up from his chair to the exhausted people before them.

"come on", Franz suddenly urged relentlessly, " there must be something you can think about". Josephs head shot up and he glared at him questioningly.

"what do you mean?", he questioned, inching a little over the desk.

"well obviously the caller has a grudge against someone - namely you!", he almost cried out, tiredness obvious in the young security man's eyes. Joseph hung his head, confirming something they all suspected. Fear, now was something that had encased every fibre of his body. Whoever it was wanted to hurt him, and they were more successful in this torment than in any other endeavour.

"I know him", he whispered, " but I don't know who he is!".

Even to himself, he sounded mad but that was the only way he could put it. He didn't know who this man was but he knew him - somewhere in time this man had known him, had seen him - had obviously hated him. Never in his life had Joseph been so frustrated but utterly helpless.

"Think Joe!", Franz commanded, " come on, think!". The room was silent as Miss Sherman came in with the mail. She timidly handed a bundle to Joe, which he cast aside - reading not something he felt up to at the moment but something caught his eye. Suddenly he was shuffling through it, ripping open the black, attention seekingenvelope at the bottom.

_The game is up - just like it was for me, many years ago. No more waiting, only suffering. She will endure suffering of the highest degree - while you stand helplessly bye . You know me, so well do you know me - yet you are ignorant. Come to me this evening, I'm right under your nose - in fact I live right next door._

_Yours,_

_With pain and grief._

The recorder tape fell out of the envelope, making a hollow sound on the floor as it did. He reached down and picking it up put it in the tape player, without even thinking about what could be on it. He clicked play and then as it reached his ears, after a horrific pause - he threw up. Her screams reverberated round the room as he was sick, her begging for her children staying in his tortured mind. Franz ran forward and clicked it off as he picked the sobbing Joseph off of the floor. Something was torturing him, more than they could ever realise - maybe the callers unbelievable revelations weren't as mad after all.

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As he sat back down, Joseph read and read and re read it until he felt numb, the screaming on the tape still resonating in his head. Next door? What did he mean, next door? The only next door……………. Joseph flew out of his seat and stood up. The screaming seemed to fade a little more as he realised he might, just be able to save her.

"it's all too easy!", he vented, making for the armoury, " Franz and 10 of you, get riot gear on - Squash, get back up and get the cars ready for 15 men. Follow me but stay back when we get there - I want to look as if I'm on my own". They done as they were told but doubting his ability to see straight due to lack of sleep and lack of energy they were desperate to argue.

"Boss? Boss!", Squash question, more than agitated, " are you sure 'bout this, are you right?". Joseph turned to him, eyes blazing with determination as he loaded his gun.

"the person who has her lives next door to me in my apartment in Pyrus, that's how he knows me!". Joseph knew that wasn't entirely true. Of course this person had made it obvious his apartment was next to Josephs and that unsettled him - what kidnapper wanted to be known? He had never met the person that stayed in the apartment next door - he never even knew it was occupied but just now, that wasn't what mattered, getting to her was his sole intention. He knew, if he was too see the face of this man in his horrifying glory, he doubtlessly would.

_Ahh, what did you think/_

_Oh please r&r, I think I'm going to post the next chapter today - if I get round to it!_

_Yours,_

_M_


	6. Chapter 6

_None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. It's night time now, lol._

The air was thick with the smell of the end of summer and the dirty rain as Joseph stepped out of his unmarked car. He had wanted to leave immediately when he had worked it out that morning but of course his men had stopped him and perhaps for that, he was grateful. He'd finally managed to sleep and even if it was not as well as he usually would, it was still some energy, energy he knew he'd definitely need for the night ahead. His gun was a heavy burden, but a reassuring one in his holster. His ear piece, tagging from the back of his trousers to his ear was his safety - his link to the men who waited so patiently for reassurance. His men were well hidden in areas near the apartments, waiting for him to tell them it was o.k. - something he dreaded he'd never be able to tell them.

He knew, as he glanced up to the third floor that she was in there, suffering at this persons hands - whoever he was. Her beautiful face enduring his blows, her perfect body enduring his beatings. This was the one and most likely, the only chance he had to save her. He was determined to do it, for her children, her country and most of all….. For himself. He couldn't bare to be without her, been if they had never really been together. She was everything to him and as much as he hated to admit it, he was in some way dependant on her. It appeared, to the outer world that she depended on him but it was so much more than that. He needed to protect her, needed to save her - just as much as she needed him, he needed her.

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Clarisse watched in silent horror as he poured the gasoline onto the couch, the work tops, the TV. anything and everything he felt like. The smell was over powering, so much so she felt sick - the industrial gag over her mouth wasn't helping much either. He smiled a few times, as he drenched everything in it - everything spare her. He stopped eventually, standing in front of the window and surveying the street below as he clutched the rusty metal can in his hand. An almost monstrously evil smile curled at the corners of his lips as he seen something which pleased him immensely.

"how heroic", he sneered, turning to her, " but utterly predictable". She glared at him questioningly, wriggling against the pain that the tight ropes were causing around her cut, friction-burned wrists.

"he's here to save you. How utterly predictable - it's a terrible shame he's never going to get to touch that wonderful body again and the even more amusing thing is - he doesn't know it!", he laughed, picking up his jacket from the chair and pulling cooker matches form the silk lined pocket.

He sniggered as he moved nearer to her, his cold hand coming to rest on the tape on her cut mouth. Her breathing was terribly laboured now, having almost been poisoned by the pungent smell of gasoline and as he whipped it off, she felt the poison and much needed oxygen catch in her chest - suffocating her awfully.

"getting weak", he stated mechanically, roaming over he body with his cold eyes, " interesting - I never thought you'd give in". she glared at him, refusing to cry, refusing to show any emotion but hate. Joseph was here, he had come to help her and suddenly she remembered all she had to live for. Joseph was down below, silently helping her. She had to do something, something to buy time. An idea, the one she hadn't trusted in days swam quickly into her tired brain and in a slick moment of clarity she knew what to do.

"I though I'd take this off", he said, almost business like, " so he could hear you scream in pain as you burned". She turned her head away, remaining silent. Suddenly she screamed, a blood curdling, heart stopping scream. Asesinato jumped in fright, fumbling as he fell backwards - this was something he hadn't bargained for. The matches flew out of his hand, as did his gun and skidded across the oily floor - out of his grasp. Falling, he fell into the glass table cutting his head open on its sharp rim, squirting blood on the virginal white walls.

Joseph looked up to the window as he heard a blood curdling scream, a scream he felt he knew well by now. Throwing himself through the door, he took the steps two at a time - reaching the landing in record speed. He threw himself at the door next to his, too no avail. He tried again and finally it gave way under his almost super natural power - he decided, years later that power had come from who he knew he had to save inside.

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Clarisse tried again, screaming as the door fell in. Joseph stood there, tired but never the less he was there. He didn't rush to her but to the man on the floor who was fumbling for the matches. He shot his leg, disabling him as blood poured onto the floor - mixing with the gasoline, making for a pretty violent sight. Joseph stopped before the man, who seemed helpless to Clarisse now. He was weak, writhing in excruciating pain.

"Xavier", Joseph breathed, maliciously dragging out the name like some spoken poison. It was clear from the disgust on his face, he had never been aware his long lost friend was capable of such evil. The shock, though not apparent to anyone who might have been watching danced in his eyes, very much apparent to Clarisse.

"Joseph", Asesinato answered, his smile curling again at his hateful face.

"how?", Joseph managed. Asesinato didn't answer but once again, reached out his hand to try and grope for the matches. Joseph lifted a boot clad foot and rammed it quickly into his elbow joint. A small crack reached her ears and she winced at it. Never had she seen Joseph so angry or violent. Asesinato however, did not show pain though it doubtlessly was painful enough to merit a scream.

"I wanted you to suffer - much as I have these last years. You ask how, it was simple. If you want something bad enough, like I wanted revenge - you eventually get it", he smiled, his eyes growing dull as blood trickled form his head into them.

"why", Joseph breathed, his foot still pinning him down, " do you want to do this?"

"I wanted the woman…", he chocked, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, " I wanted the woman you love to suffer and for you too see it and for you too know she never knew how much she loved you". Joseph looked down on him, confusing clearly reigning over his face. Some where in time, his once dearest and most noble friend had lost all sense of life, of love, of reality. But something other than confusion reigned over him. He had, only a few days ago loved her silently, something whish he had expected too do until the day he died - this man, his once dear friend had made a terrible mistake. He hadn't realised the love triumphed over everything.

"I knew he loved me", Clarisse whispered weakly, everything suddenly blurry and cold, " I knew that". suddenly she felt sick, cold and heavy. Everything began to swim in front of her and as she passed out she felt everything around her turn immensely warm - she knew that the matches had been lit and whether she'd survive was immaterial now as long as he knew that she knew of his love for her, as long as her children were safe and in the care of Joseph and the palace - she felt safe, suddenly ok. It wasn't that she was overtly desperate to die. She didn't want to - but if it had to happen she was content - more content than she had been in many years. Content in the knowledge he knew, content in the knowledge that he knew her love was returned.

Joseph momentarily took his eyes off Asesinato as Clarisse passed out on the couch, clearly exhausted and in immense pain. Before he knew it, Asesinato had managed to slip under him and get the matches, the place was suddenly alight - scorching everything and anything the orange flames could lick and engulf. He knew, from the rapid burning of everything round him, there wasn't much time.

"you didn't win, Xavier", he chocked, the thick black smoke coating his lungs, " she knew".

With that he shot him and not wasting time to look back and see whether he'd shot him dead or not, he tried to reach her. He was feeling ill now, his head reeling from the poisonous toxins swirling in the enclosed space. She was freezing, even in the sweltering heat of the quickly cindering apartment. Her temperature, her pale, yellowy colour was evidence of what she'd had to endure. Whatever that was, he couldn't bring himself to think about at a moment like that. Instead he holstered her light body over his shoulder quickly, and waving his hand in front of him to try and rid his vision of smoke, stumbled his way, exhaustedly to the door. Tripping over tables and chairs and bookcases that had withered in the immense heat. He fell onto the ceramic tiles of the hallway, cracking his ribs. Her weight, though not that much was getting heavier by the moment and in his confusion, he could barely see in front of himself.

As he made it to the landing, he used the last of his energy to pull the oak door shut. He hoped to god someone below had seen the flames, he didn't want innocent people in the apartments above and below to be burned out of house and home simply because of one monstrous creature.

He could barely stand as the smoke engulfed his senses and accidentally, he dropped her limp body as the last spark of energy left his. He slipped down the wall, eyes quickly closing as his gun rattled along the landing and clinked its way down the flight of stairs. He could feel her breathing on his neck as he fell next to her, but only slightly. His breathing, he could tell was weakening by now, but he didn't care -because she knew he'd tried and she knew how he felt. Everything swam now through his half closed eye lids, never had he been in so much pain - hell, his body felt like hell - but his mind, it was worse, worse than hell. It was tortured, dark and tortured and nothing seemed to help now. It was dark and dull and then everything went black.

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Franz clambered up the smock filled stair wells with ten of his men as frightened residents clambered down, shouting and crying, clutching the little possessions they'd grabbed. Pandemonium reigned around as people flooded onto the main street to watch the spectacular light show, unawares the most important woman in the country was lying on the third floor landing - near dead.

He seen them then, lying inconspicuously on the landing. They looked terrible, the queen bruised and cut and severely battered, Joseph black with thick smoke and cuts. She was breathing, but hardly. He lay by her side, his chest not rising in deep breathing, but in hard gained, short breaths.

Carlo hoisted her up onto his shoulder, cleverly concealing her face. Franz and another man scooped the dead weight of Joseph up, praying to god his stillness was simply from exhaustion.

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Joseph stood in front of the mirror as he spat the blood out. The room, clinically white had hurt his eyes when he'd first woken, but now he had grown accustomed to the sickly, pale whiteness of the bleached room. He had wrenched himself out of the bed and made his way over to the sink. He looked ill, he hadn't shaved in 48 hours, his usually hard and well pronounced chest was purple and yellow with intricately patterned bruises. The trouser bottoms that clung to him sat uneasily, making him look uncomfortable. Yes, he was a weak, bedraggled, confused sight to behold. He could remember little, if nothing at all.

His lungs felt heavy and sore and the oxygen mask by his bed side had been particularly helpful. He hadn't called for a nurse, he wanted to be on his own, to try and remember what had happened. He couldn't recall anything, only the flames, Xavier Asesinato face but after that, he didn't know. Suddenly it hit him with terrific force. Clarisse!

Flying from the mirror, he tore the drip out of his arm and as the blood sprinkled all over the white tiles, he flung open the door. The nurses' at the station startled, turning to him as if he where a mad man.

"sir!", one of the older nurses tried, " can I help?"

"queen Clarisse!", he said, the urgency in his voice more than apparent, " where is she?"

"ward 33, private ward. Now sir you should….", she trailed off as she watched him fly down the corridor, knocking down one of the doctors on his way. hurtling over a tray of medicine in his manic rush to reach the Monarch. It was definitely a puzzling thing that the young boy was flying down the corridors at such speed, after all the young Queen was perfectly stable and in no imminent danger.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Joseph rammed his way through the swing doors, leaving them swishing behind him rapidly as he came to a halt in front of the nurses station in ward 33. The nurse looked up at her own pace, caring little for his clearly agitated manner. She looked disapprovingly as she did, clucking a little too herself. He could sympathize with her on that point, after all he was standing, his bare chest, his bottoms tied with the little string at the front and hardly shaven - yes he could probably disapprove as well, if he felt the need to.

"can I help you?", she questioned, her nose turning slightly up, " you are aware this ward is for, err, Private patients". He glared at her, this was, in his book, no time for class distinctions or in her case, belittlements.

"and you are aware", he said menacingly, " that I am her Majesty's Head of Security".

"I apologise", she stuttered, more than a little red faced and dropping the notes she had been making in the process.

"let me", he said, slightly mocking her as he bent down to pick them up, " you can lead the way".

" yes her Majesty questioned after you today", she smiled remorsefully, motioning with her had to the doors at the end of the corridor. He smiled slightly at that, more than a little touched that she had asked after him. He remained silent, he felt the nurse was too nosy, prying too much.

"ahh, here it is", she smiled, stopping in front of a door guarded by the royal guard. They smiled at Joe, glad too see him back. He smiled at the nurse, dismissing her silently - she went, but grudgingly.

"hello, Joe", the two guards chorused, " you finally came - she's been ranting after you all day".

"wants to thank you no doubt", Franz piped up as he came into view from the side of the corridor, shaking Joe's hand firmly.

"I can go in?", Joe questioned, impatience only slightly lacing his gravely voice.

"of course", Franz smiled mildly, " she wants her hero". Joseph gave him a disapproving grin as he pushed open the door.

_AHAAHAHHAAA, did you think you were getting to see Clarisse in this chapter, sorry! Actually, I didn't do it to be evil, I'm going out with my boy friend now so I decided to cut it here- if I'm up to it, I'll post another chap. Tonight._

_Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, you guys are sooooo cool._

_Yours,_


	7. Chapter 7

_None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. Ok, Dame Jules my boyfriend had to drag me away from my computer lol! ( it's a real shame my boyfriend isn't Joe and he wouldn't have to drag me) _

_P.S. does anyone want to proof -read my stories for me? It means you get to read the stuff before everyone else._

Joseph stood, transfixed as her eyes met his in the gleaming white of the room. Life had returned to her deep eyes, full of love and tears and feelings. She smiled a watery smile, still too weak she tried to sit up. He was standing, not moving at all - just being there was enough to stop his heart. She was perfectly alive looking, something which filled him with such warmth and contentment that he was rooted to the spot. Suddenly, all traces of what had been such danger left his thoughts. Her screams were silenced by her even, steady breathing as he managed to put one foot in front of the other and run toward her. Suddenly she was kissing him, hot tears that seeped from her eyes falling onto his scorched skin. Her kisses breathing life into him, making the torment disappear.

"Clarisse…..my darling", he whispered, cradling her shaking body too him," it's ok now, it's over". She sighed against him, squeezing his back tighter, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his skin. He flinched a little, gently pulling her back from her emotional reverie.

"I'm sorry", she smiled sheepishly, rubbing the scratches gently and slightly releasing him as he straightened up. He smiled at her then, casting her apology aside wordlessly. His hand, resting on hers was reassurance of his love for her - of his need for her.  
"I didn't think….", she faded again, the hot tears streaking there way down her face, " they wouldn't call for you". He smiled, his heart doing a flip at the thought that she had been desperate too see him.

"they didn't have a chance to stop me coming to see you", he smiled, his fingers making little traces on the back of her hand. He took in her appearance then. She was tired looking, her eyes drooping but yet, they still contained the wonderful zeal and life that often enraptured him. The bandages around her wrists gave the wrong impression and he only hoped that she wouldn't have too suffer anyone knowing they were there. A constant reminder of what she had endured.

In some ways, he felt as if he was to blame. After all, if he hadn't known Xavier, if he hadn't left him on the side of the road years ago, perhaps she wouldn't have suffered so much. He moved away from her, dropping her hand gently on the bed as he made his way toward the window.

The sun was setting, coating the tiny city in an orange hue. The road below bustled, people on the street unawares of what others were suffering, ignorant to what they didn't want to know.

His heart was heavy and sore with guilt and she knew it from the deep rooted concentration evident on his face. She sat, propped up on the hard pillows studying his handsome figure intently as the light shadowed over him. The guilt was not necessary, in fact, perhaps for the last two day she was grateful.

" don't blame yourself", she said quietly, dipping her head and looking at her clasped hand in her lap, "I don't blame you". He looked up quickly, his look questioning her. He went to speak, but she help up a hand - knowing if she didn't say it she never would.

" I don't think, if it weren't for this, the last two days I mean - I wouldn't know how much you mean to me. I loved you before it, don't doubt that but I didn't know it. It was just an affair to me, an affair with more that mutual and platonic feelings but not the love I know I feel for you. I'm not being rash and I'm not saying I didn't love you before it, I just never knew what I was feeling. Yes, that night there was lust and love but not love that was deep enough to last any turmoil. But when you weren't there to help me, to protect me, to make me laugh I was lost, I needed you. I needed your voice and your laugh and your reassurance……", she trailed off looking at him. She could tell he was drowning in her words, taking every one of them in and analysing it.

To anyone who was listening, her jumbled, confused, incoherent words would have sounded insane but to him, to him they were the words he heard once in his life with such clarity and sense that he wanted to cry with pure emotion. She was telling him everything he'd felt over the last two days, now he felt that no matter how, or why, or what - they'd overcome whatever they had to face now and in the future.

"I'm sounding mad, I know………".

"no", he said softly, his tone gentle and reassuring, " no, you're making sense, wonderful, beautiful sense." He moved away from the window, walking through the dust dancing in the last light of the day. As he reached her, she smiled cupping his cheek in her hand in such an intimate gesture.

"I love you Joseph". She said, not dragging it out as if it burned her, not letting it roll of her tongue carelessly. She said it this time, without a trace of guilt lacing her rich voice or lingering in her story telling eyes.

"I love you too", he whispered, his voice gravely and rough, " I love you too".

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Joseph sighed as the winter moon streaming in the window caressed his body, and that of the beautiful woman lying beside him. She was older - they both where. She was a grandmother, a woman who had lost her child, a woman who had endured the vicious hounding of the ruthless media, a former queen, a married and widowed woman - she was the woman who was his wife.

Her hand, entangled with his showed no signs of being older- her body only a little. They said that as you got older, you earned your wrinkles and in his mind Clarisse should have earned a lot, but yet they were not evident if they existed at all.

The warmth of the room was comforting as he watched the drifting snow gather on the corners of the windows in the glow of the moon light from his comfortable position in their bed. Her head buried in his chest, his chin resting on top of her head, there lower bodies tangled around each other in a blissful, relaxed state.

He would, as he often did, watch her asleep as sleep often proved elusive to him. Her chest rising and falling against his, her face screwing up in a child like manner as she met someone in a dream, or dreaded someone in a nightmare.

Her body, next to his was heaven as they lay in the quiet stillness of the room. The soft heat swirled about, languidly taking over each one of his senses. The silence enraptured him, the only sound her wonderful, deep breathing. The silk sheets wrapped expertly over them, keeping them warm as the last glowing embers of the fire danced in the dark, letting out the last of the heat. The smell of the wine they had drunk, her perfume, his cologne floated in the cold air, warming it up.

Her bare, silky skin, touching his under the silk of their sheets. Her hand squeezing his fingers as she dreamt, her breath on his neck, her leg over his, her body shivering as the slight cold reached her.

Her reached down, pulling the covers over both of them as she snuggled into him - sighing a little. He looked over to the bedside table, looking at the bed side clock flashing in the silvery light of the room. The wine bottle lying on the bed side table, glasses half drunk, their clothing - her ball gown discarded carelessly on the plush carpet beside his tux.

He smiled again as she squeezed his hand, perhaps she wasn't sleeping - simply revelling.

"tell me what you're thinking", she whispered, eyes still closed as she moved impossibly closer. He seen them then as he took in her beautiful body once more - the circular scars that encircled her wrist. Her eyes still closed, her body radiating heat into his - the memories of those days distantly horrifying as he ran his hand along her side. She shivered, a flicker of pleasure crossing her face.

"just that I'm glad we're here, like this", he smiled, taking her wrists and kissing them. She smiled, cupping his face in her hands as she reached up, kissing him gently. He smiled and rolled her over, his hands roaming, taking control. Making love to her, his moment where everything but the beutiful woman he loved was forgotten - his moment of clarity.

Clarisse closed her eyes as he made love to her in the moon lit midnight, everything they had endured not being forgotten, simply let go.

Distant memories, buried were they deserved to be - in their hearts.

_Lol, this is the shortest chap. Story I've ever written, anyways I hope you enjoyed it and please R&R. thanks to all you wonderful people who reviewed - thanks again._

_Yours,_

_M_


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